Chapter 645: Return to Tranquility
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.
Flames soared into the sky, resembling a volcanic eruption, as they consumed the remnants of the mythic World Tree. The mighty tree quickly succumbed to the inferno, disintegrating into ash and spectral wisps. The fire spread relentlessly across the void, engulfing the dark realm in a vast sea of flames, devouring what remained of an ancient dream of the entity known as the Nameless One, and ultimately restoring scattered elements to their proper place in the tangible world.
Amidst this surreal landscape, an expansive body of water appeared, its surface rippling with gentle waves that danced in sync with the flames. As the darkness dispersed, a city began to emerge within the fiery chaos, its outlines solidifying into distinct, robust architectures.
From the prow of the Vanished, Duncan watched the scene, reminiscent of ancient elven tales of Saslokha—a realm where dreams form and life begins in chaos.
The scene mirrored the dawn of creation itself.
As the new world reached its zenith, sunlight kissed the vast blue ocean. The flames withdrew almost imperceptibly, and the morning sun cast its radiant light from the horizon, bathing the endless waters and the awakening Wind Harbor in golden light. The engulfing nightmare was receding, and with the sunrise, all that was consumed seemed poised to return to its rightful reality, including transient illusions reverting to their original forms.
Approaching the ship was a colossal black goat, once revered as a deity and creator, moving majestically across the water to the ship’s side in one decisive step. It bowed its head, its sharp horns pressing gently against the ship’s tall mast, a faint green flame flickering at the tip.
“I return the flame to you, Captain,” it announced.
Observing the humanoid goat, Duncan responded with a touch of pride, “I could have managed on my own. Your intervention wasn’t necessary…”
“Yet it is most fitting that I perform this act,” the black goat countered, its voice heavy with meaning. “Long ago, I brought her into being, and it is only proper that I now guide her into her final voyage.”
Duncan nodded solemnly, acknowledging the sentiment.
“There is no cause for sorrow,” the black goat continued, “what has transpired was meant to be. It happened long before our ‘Deep Sea Era.’ The nightmare was just a fleeting shadow, and allowing it to spread would dishonor her memory. Besides…”
The goat paused, prompting Duncan’s curiosity. “Besides what?”
A hint of amusement crossed the black goat’s face. “It seems you have already taken her away, haven’t you?” it remarked, a realization dawning.
“You’ve noticed something,” Duncan admitted, taken aback.
“I don’t see the full picture, but I sense it,” the goat replied slowly, its eyes reflecting the pale green flames on the ship’s deck. “Your flame’s essence has taken Atlantis to a realm beyond my reach. I believe it’s a peaceful sanctuary for my young sapling.”
As the sunlight grew stronger, giant rune circles known as Vision 001 began to rise from the horizon. The light rendered the goat’s massive form almost translucent.
“The dream is over, and we must return to our duties,” the goat declared, gazing towards the emerging Vision 001 with nostalgia. “They have indeed created something remarkable…”
Then, as the dawn light strengthened, the goat’s figure began to dissolve, vanishing as effortlessly as a bubble pops in sunlight, fading quietly into the morning air.
Duncan turned to Lune, the elder elf, now reverted to his original form, who appeared confused.
“I would have thought you’d come to meet Saslokha,” Duncan said casually. “After all, this is the Creator from your legends, and you might be the last elf to see its legendary form. Bringing it back like this isn’t usually within my power.”
Coming out of his daze, Lune smacked his forehead, realizing the missed opportunity. “Ah! I wasn’t quick enough to react!”
Duncan smiled wryly. “It’s no great loss. You’ll still have opportunities to interact with it. But from now on, you’ll need to visit the captain’s quarters if you want to talk to my first mate, who, coincidentally, has a goat’s head.”
As Duncan headed towards the deck, Nina greeted him joyously: “Uncle Duncan!”
He caught the lively ‘little sun’ who leaped into his arms, then looked up at others approaching.
“Wind Harbor appears restored,” Vanna observed, joining Duncan and pointing towards the city now bathed in sunlight. “But we’ll see what it’s really like inside.”
As the ship approached the dock, Lucretia expressed her cautious plans. “Once we’re docked, I’ll assess the city’s condition,” she stated. “If our theories about the dreamer’s visions are correct, the city should normalize after the dream ends. But, given the unprecedented events, I’m wary of potential lingering effects.”
Meanwhile, Morris noted the approaching “Cathedral Ark,” a city-state on the waves, signaling the Academy Ark’s attempt to establish communication.
Duncan recognized this as predictable. “Of course they would; after all, their leader, the ‘Pope,’ is still with us.” He pointed towards Lune, now purposefully heading toward the captain’s quarters. “This is a great opportunity for you to reconnect with your mentor, Morris. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him outside the realm of dreams.”
Morris nodded and headed to the captain’s quarters.
Turning to Vanna, whose resilience seemed undiminished by recent challenges, Duncan asked, “How are you holding up, Vanna? Shouldn’t you rest properly in your room?” He remembered how she had nearly collapsed from exhaustion when he helped her aboard. Yet now, she appeared energized.
Vanna tested herself by jumping in place, stretching, and patting her chest triumphantly. “I feel quite refreshed, actually,” she declared. “Just a short rest on deck was enough to restore my strength.”
Duncan was briefly speechless, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement, while Shirley expressed disbelief, “It’s really unbelievable. To think that an athlete could recover from being scorched by the sun not just twenty-seven times, but bounce back after just a short break outdoors…”
Vanna corrected her seriously, “Actually, it was twenty-eight times, not twenty-seven. I must have miscounted earlier because of the heat.”
As Vanna and Shirley walked away, debating the number of times, Duncan shook his head in amusement.
“That’s nice,” a soft voice called.
Duncan turned to see Alice, delicate as a porcelain doll, sitting on a large barrel at the deck’s edge. She enjoyed the sunlight, her legs swinging over the side as she swayed with the ship’s motion.
“That’s nice…” she repeated with a contented sigh.
Curious, Duncan moved closer and asked, “What’s so nice?”
Startled by his sudden approach, Alice nearly fell off the barrel. She gasped and quickly grabbed Duncan’s arm to steady herself. “Oh! You startled me!”
Her heart still racing, Alice steadied herself on the barrel, holding onto Duncan. “You really gave me a scare,” she laughed relievedly.
Duncan chuckled warmly and gently smoothed her hair. “What’s making you sigh so contentedly?” he asked.
Alice sighed deeply, filled with profound relief as she surveyed their surroundings. “It’s the peace of normalcy that’s so delightful,” she reflected, her eyes sweeping over the now calm city-state. “No catastrophic blaze, no bizarre trees—it all looks just as I remember. Our ship sails on the docile sea, no longer hovering above that eerie, haunting forest… And I can go back to my usual tasks, the simplicity of scrubbing the deck, the routine of cooking in the galley.”
As she contemplated her day’s duties, Alice sprang from her seat with cat-like agility and dashed off. She called out to Duncan, waving energetically, “The day has begun! Time to prepare breakfast! Just you wait, Captain!”
Duncan watched as Alice, the small whirlwind, hurried across the deck. Her rush led to a mishap when she ran into a taut rope, causing her to tumble into Shirley and Dog, sparking a small, chaotic scene. Meanwhile, Vanna rushed to retrieve Alice’s headpiece, which had flown off in the commotion.
This minor disturbance seemed to awaken the usual lively rhythm aboard the Vanished.
After watching the scene with a mix of amusement and reflection, Duncan’s gaze returned to the oversized barrel where Alice had been sitting. He nudged it with his foot, pondering their recent conversation. “Do the rest of you find comfort in this return to our regular ways?” he wondered aloud, though more to himself than to anyone else.
The barrel wobbled slightly under his touch, and to his surprise, the lid popped off, revealing it crammed with an assortment of wave amulets. The barrel had served multiple purposes: storing Vanna’s amulets, providing a seat for Alice, perhaps even as a makeshift desk for Dog’s homework or a canvas for Shirley’s sketches. It seemed to silently protest its varied roles.
A rueful grin appeared on Duncan’s face as he carefully replaced the lid.
He then sat on the closed barrel, his eyes drawn to the horizon where the sun bathed everything in golden light. It was a moment of peace in a world that had recently been too chaotic. For Duncan and the crew of the Vanished, this simple return to ordinary moments was indeed a cherished respite.
I guess that everyone and everything on Vanished, crew and captain included, is “recycled” in one way or another. Am I wrong? The philosophical concept called Ship of Theseus about the nature of identity comes to mind.
Even further, it seems like the whole world is the recycled product of the hot pot made by all the worlds colliding and merging into one single mess